The Elves of the Mountain
by dragonpearlz
Summary: When orcs attack Lothlórien, Delazia (OC) and her father lead a faction away from their legendary home in order to set up a temporary life so they can prepare to take their home back. Haldir/Delazia Disclaimer: This story is not canon to ANYTHING. Not the movies, books, or games. Although the Haldir in my mind is from the movie. Breaks known conventions. Blame Elvenar!
1. Chapter 1

A gentle breeze blew thought the trees causing a whistling that only the most sensitive of ears could hear. As the leaves tipped in the wind's gentle caress they changed the tone, playing the song of a mild spring. The leaves of early spring were already bright with life, even though the trees were not in abundance. This would be an unfamiliar location… not only to the village who had followed her and her father on this insane journey, but to the orcs that hunted them.

Long nimble fingers, brushed the wall of the mountain that protected the valley on one side. Craning her neck, she looked up and squinted into the sun, which seemed to be cut in half by the tall mountain ledge.

Not yet mid-day. Yes, this would be a fine place to start the new village, although she knew that the rest of the group would have their misgivings.

Anxiety pooled in her stomach as she thought about the reality of their misgivings. They were elves – their concerns would be voiced calmly and rationally. They were used to the trees – the forest had always provided them protection. The ability to walk amongst the trees had provided them aerial perspective of their prior home, and protection amongst the leaves. This was different – a wide open space, with a smattering of trees here and there. A mountain face provided both protection, and vulnerability depending on what enemy approached and from where. There were exits, however… lake on one side, and an underground pass through the mountain on the other. The final side, the side from which they had come was prime for farming. They could live here, though she was uncertain if they would thrive.

The place that she had decided to set up was close enough to the mountainside that she was positive that their archers would be able to set up far enough away to take out the intruders. As long as it wasn't an army of orcs. They would have to find and make alliances soon.

A small smile twitched at the corners of her pale lips as the marchwarden of 'her' troops and one of her truest friends approached her. He was dressed for war, his cloak flipped around his body and over his shoulder, the only testament to how much he needed water. Soon.

A small whisper to a young elf that had been following her and taking notes. They had stores of water, but she wanted to make sure that would last. The water of the lake had been of much better quality than they had expected, and she hoped that they would be able to utilize the gift that nature had given them.

The marchwarden approached her with vigor, pausing only to move as though he was going to bend down on one knee. He paused half way, lowering his eyes and bowing his head, as he put a fist to his heart – a show of respect for her 'position'. "We have found a mountain pass that does not go under the mountain. Our scouts report that it goes through to the our end, and will deposit us in a forest. Perhaps a good place to set up camp."

She nodded a bit, hazel eyes breaking the eye contact that they had held for the briefest of moments. "We will set up camp here," she stated, authoritatively. "There is water, and the rockface will provide at least minimal protection until we can build up our stores and spread out."

The marchwarden blinked, his beautiful brown eyes flashing the silver that they turned when he lead men in combat. Not used to his suggestions being ignored, he drew up to stand at attention. "I must protest. We belong in the trees."

She nodded once. An acquiescence of sorts. "We do. And you are correct, we belong there. So that is the first place the orcs will look. We cannot be predictable. We must stay one step ahead. "

A rustle of the grass stopped their conversation, as the young runner came back with a tankard of water.

The marchwarden knew better than to continue the conversation and nodded curtly. "As you say." A deep breath. "I shall tell the men."

"Haldir," she stated, her tone both commanding of his attention and pleading for him to listen.

He had turned partway away from her already, but leaned his head back slightly as he drew himself to his full height again. No words left his lips.

"Drink something," she said, taking the tankard from the runner. With a quick tilt of her head, she dismissed the runner. Waiting for him to depart, she handed it over to Haldir. "Drink this. You are overheated and you are not feeling like yourself."

She was not incorrect in her assessment. He warred with himself to continue to state his case, or take the water with gratitude. He opted to reach back out for the water. After draining the tankard, he handed it back. "The men will be displeased," he stated tactfully.

Another nod. "I know. " She considered her words thoughtfully. "I have a plan for that area, for which I will need your assistance. But, first we need shelter and workshops. We'll need food, water, and essentials." She softened her features; a silent plea for him to work with her on this. Her position as a leader was precarious, they both knew. Her father, once a prominent marchwarden in the Lorien army was not aged. He had lead a faction of the elves out of Lothlorien, away from where the orcs had attacked. She was certain that Haldir had followed out of respect for her father, and perhaps an affection for her. Regardless of the reason for his support, she appreciated it. Knowledge, skill, and loyalty like his was hard to come by – harder still to attain in the same person. She was grateful for his support.

"I understand," he said, not fighting her further. Although her self proclaimed proficiency was in healing, he had always been drawn to her leadership qualities. Like her father before her, she often assessed both the micro-issues and the over-arching issues that were faced in a particular situation. "I will tell the men," he said, readjusting his cloak as his body temperature regulated and he felt the calming effects of the water on his body.


	2. Chapter 2

It was ridiculous. Who created a main hall before creating homes for those who had followed them in their journey?

Night had fallen on the small encampment. Tents had gone up and small campfires littered the part of the valley closest to the rock face. The air was moist with an impending rain, but not so much so that they wanted to delay the creation of the main hall. By _they_ , she meant her father, Haldir, and the other elves making up her father's council.

They had continued working into the night, insistent that this was an important part of building their new settlement. She understood that the group wanted somewhere to gather – somewhere to meet, where it was mostly private. But, there were so many other important things – like getting water up to the guards who watched over the mountain ridge, and the scouts that protected them.

"Look, I know it's a climb. Stay there tonight if you need to. But, I need to make certain they are prepped for," she said, loading a runner with a pack of food and drink.

"We can handle a shift," a voice said behind her. "No elf is so weak that they need food and water like a man. This has got to stop. You're wasting precious resources." Haldir came up to the runner. "Have you been up the mountain before?" he asked him.

"Yes. It's not a hard journey. I'll be back tonight," he said, giving her a short gesture of reverence before heading on his way.

She turned to Haldir, her dark blonde tresses coming out of their braid as her hair hung as limply as she felt tired. "Why must you dissent from me on everything?" she asked the question in her heart.

"It is not you I dissent from. But, you worry about nothing. Those elves were well provisioned when we sent them up there. You _are_ wasting valuable resources." He turned towards the camp, and waited for her to do the same. "Those are the elves you need to focus on. The ones who stayed, who gave up their rations to the ones who went."

"It's a night shift, not a warzone," she reasoned. "Those above will come back below, and the next shift will also be provisioned."

He nodded at her logic. Simple logic. Healers logic. In times like these he was reminded that she was not a warrior. Not a soldier. And he reminded himself that a leader did not have to be either of those things. Merely respected. "I will attempt not to dissent from you in front of the others again," he stated.

"Were you a man, I'd ask if you are dying," she teased in a wry tone. One of the few who had journeyed that she would confidently call her friend, the two of them had a comfortable banter that had run between them for many years.

"I mean it, Delazia," he said, turning to her. "The others followed your father here. They will follow me in battle. But, you – you are someone they would die for. A leader that they trust to look out for them. Even if we don't need it." The last sentence was said quieter, more prideful than the others. "I should not voice my dissent in front of others. I will endeavor not to do it again."

But, he would do it again. Just as he had many times before. "Thank you." She accepted his words without contest. Not everything needed to be a fight. Not everything needed to be difficult. And, now, they needed to stand strong. For many trials were to come ahead, and that was if they could build up before the orcs found them.


	3. Chapter 3

Blonde hair pulled from her braid as she watched, hazel eyes sparkling blue as she watched the group put together small housing structures. Stronger than the typical field tents, these were being erected as semi-permanent structures. The wood was being taken from the forest on the other side of the mountain pass, and she had been coordinating a small group of runners to keep buckets of water full and accessible from the base of the mountain to the forest. They had been doing a fine job of keeping everyone hydrated. Something that was likely not needed, but something that she worried about anyway. Perhaps the buckets were not draining as fast as they would have had the group been made of men, but they were being drained none-the-less.

A touch on her shoulder caused her to turn. One of the youngest runners wordlessly held a rolled message to her.

 _Delazia,_

 _Come to the mountain ridge look out._

 _Haldir_

Telling the head water bearer that he was in charge of continuing the missive, she trotted up the path that they had started to wear up the side of the mountain. Flowers had started to grow out of their way, becoming accustomed to their existence nearby. Branches no longer tended to tangle them, rather letting them pass.

Coming over the side of the mountain, she continued her pace up to Haldir, who was looking out over the group. "We won't need much more wood from that forest. We should be able to erect most of the shelters today… get a work station or two started by tomorrow."

She nodded, but said nothing. She knew that he did not bring her up here for that. That much she already knew. He wanted to make idle conversation, even though this was not the time for such things. This he knew, she knew. But, it was his way when he was away from the others. A soft spoken resilience. Opinions that mattered, and a small need to be validated. She made a small noise of agreement.

"Come," he said, moving away from the ridge. "I have something to show you. Something your father doesn't want you to see."

A wicked grin crossed her face. One of her favorite benefits of a friendship with Haldir was how easily he broke her father's confidence with decisions that he thought would affect her. They walked through a pasture until they came to an orchard.

Confused, she looked at him, but didn't ask. She smiled when she saw a smile grace his own lips.

They continued on until they reached the other side of the ridge.

Smiling he looked at her. "Look down."

Knowing that Haldir was nothing if not literal, she did so. A smattering of about a dozen small huts with smoke coming from chimneys were below them. The small wooden structures were not unlike those that they had been creating all day.

"Have we made contact?" she asked, already knowing what the answer would be. Her father didn't like to make contact with outsiders. Recently being attacked had done nothing to increase his trust of outsiders.

"Not yet. But, your father wants to," he responded, his voice hiding under the wind so that it would not echo over the valley below.

"What?" she asked louder, but still careful not to let her voice carry.

He nodded. "We're concerned about your father. He wants to make contact. Bind together with the locals."

"Do we know if they're elven?" she asked, hoping that there was a detail that she was missing. Something that would make her father's odd behavior make sense.

"They are not confirmed to be of any elven descent. Out scouts have been out for days, trying to make contact."

"What are we trading?" she asked, her voice returning to her general calm demeanor.

"Water." He turned to her and smiled. "It appears we have a precious commodity. Something we elves would do well not to forget."

She met his smile. Coming from him, it was a compliment. It meant that he was validating her press that they stayed hydrated while they set up camp in their new, albeit temporary, home.

Kind though his words were, she still was troubled by her father's interest in making outside contact. "What reason did he give?"

"Alliance." The word was spoken bitterly, as though she was not the only one who was doubting her father's sanity.

Sucking in a deep breath she looked at him. "I don't like it," she said, sounding every bit her father's daughter. "We're not stable enough yet to risk such a move."

"Your father thinks we are. And, I'll warn you to trust the heart and skill of my men," he said.

Ever protective of the skills and veracity of those he lead into battle, she wondered – not for the first time – what his men would think if they saw this side of their generally silent marchwarden. "I'd do no such thing," she stated neutrally. "But, without knowing that which is out there… without knowing their intentions, I cannot help but hope that they don't run into trouble that they cannot handle. "

Haldir said nothing, merely looked at the community below them. In truth he held the same concerns, but voicing them was out of the question. It was an unspoken fear that most leaders held. And, although he wasn't going to admit it to anyone – especially himself – it was alluring.


	4. Chapter 4

Delazia sighed and pressed a hand to her forehead. "But, if we do that we'll leave the houses unprotected.

They had been trying to figure out the city plan. When there had only been shelters and a few workshops to consider, things made more sense. It was easier to set up a basic settlement than to start applying infrastructure.

"We built the main hall too close to the mountain range," her father rumbled, pacing through the very hall that he was speaking of. His leather soled boots were nearly silent on the floor as he paced around her.

"We can build the barracks next to the main hall – that way they will protect our city, which can remain centralized," Haldir suggested.

She nodded. That had not been the initial plan. Elves were made to live in a community, but not on top of one another. She didn't like having the house so close together. Elves were nothing if not discreet. That didn't mean that they didn't their privacy. It also didn't mean that they didn't need time away from each other. Warriors or not, everyone needed time to themselves. Although she seemed to be the only one aware of that.

"What if… what if we grouped the shelters before we really build them up? Three maybe four to a group and put them near the trees?"

"What are you taunting us?" her father's most trusted advisor, Raunaeril, asked. "We left our home in the trees. Now you keep us from taking up residence in the ones we know of. And then you expect us to share one or two trees each?"

"I'm not saying that we live in them," she reasoned. "I'm saying that elves should not live on top of each other."

"We are meant to live in the trees!" Raunaeril roared, bringing the conversation to a halt.

She sighed and leaned away from the table. He wasn't incorrect, and she understood his frustration.

"Enough," her father said. He did not yell, but his tone broached no room for argument. "We will do as Haldir suggests. It's the best of our options. As we branch out, we'll look at clustering again. There is merit to the idea, but it is premature."

Dejected, she said nothing. Eyes did not meet those of the men around her. She had been informed of the directive. "Yes sir," she said, rising from the table. "Come," she ordered Haldir. "Let's inform the others."


	5. Chapter 5

Blood blended with mud, causing the gashes that covered the tradescout as the scouts that had been sent to find him carried in his dead body. The purplish color glopped haphazardly in the dirt, giving the visual appeal of mud castles after a hard rain.

Haldir's face was impassive as he brought the dead scout into the middle of the city, and placed him down in a pool of his own muddish blood.

Her heart constricted as she was awash with waves of pain. The elf before her was dead, and she was painfully aware that the city had stopped… nothing stirred as each elf prepared itself for the process to follow.

 _What happened?_ She had thought it. The words never passed her lips. Too overcome with the pain that had caused the wounds, the pain of her friend, the pain of the scout, the pain of those around her, she stood there, stone faced. Blonde hair tumbled over her shoulders as she bowed her head forward. She knew there would be deaths. But, it made things no easier. This immortal being would never cross to the West. His family would never see him again. This elf… the one with the laugh that could be heard throughout the camp, were there enough ale for him to allow himself to do so. One of the best scouts that had come with them had died.

Slowly, like a breeze on the grass, the community started to move towards the fallen elf. Haldir had knelt down next to the elf, eyes closed, trying to give the tradescout his own energy. Another followed suit. Then another.

She shook her head lightly. No amount of their own energy would bring him back. He had already faded to the darkness. With a huff of her own grief, she walked towards the crowd and put a hand on Haldir's shoulder, careful not to lend her own . "He's faded."

The shoulder tensed beneath her hand.

She gripped it a little harder and pulled back ever so slightly.

A bedraggled sigh left her friend, and her grip on his shoulder tightened.

"ENOUGH!"

The voice bellowed and echoed off the mountainside, causing the group assembled to jump and turn.

She turned, not breaking her contact with her friend. Her father stalked out of the Main Hall, anger etched in his features. The group parted, allowing him to get to the center.

Her father looked at the dead elf.

Haldir remained on his knees, head bowed. He was saddened at the loss of his soldier. He had just given an unknown amount of his own energy to his fallen comrade. And, now, his own commander was in front of him. And, he was too weak to stand at his side.

Her hand remained on his shoulder. His shoulder rose and fell with each breath he took. But, she wasn't foolish enough to let go. He needed to know he was not alone. She couldn't imagine the swirl of emotions he felt inside. But, it was the only thing she could do.

"This!" her father bellowed to the community assembled, his large hand in open gesture at the fallen tradescout. "This is what happens when we form alliances. We had been in communication with a neighboring community, in an attempt to trade for assistance against the orcs who have ravaged their homes as well. THIS! This was their response."

Haldir's shoulder stiffened under her hand. A cool hand reached up and put his own hand on hers. A squeeze.

Understanding that he no longer needed her touch contact, she went to withdraw her hand. But, he didn't let go. Rather he held her hand tightly.

Green eyes focused on him as she looked at him, head still bowed, their hands intertwined.

"We will not make allies here. We must find a way to take our home back on our own."

The statement left the group assembled still. To form alliances is why they had left their homes. They needed alliances to return.

Without another word her father went back into the Main Hall, a few of his advisors following. Slowly, like a leaf on the wind, the other elves started to go back to their tasks. Within a few hours, the community had started its bustle again. And, yet, Delazia and Haldir did not move.

Night fell, and the breeze kicked up a bit.

Others had come to take the fallen tradscouts body.

When they were finally alone – completely alone – Haldir whispered, "That is not what happened."

Time had passed. The sun had set. The community had continued on. And, truth be known she wasn't positive of what he was speaking.

"What happened?" she whispered back.

Haldir rose to his feet, slowly releasing her hand as he did so. "Come," he asked, walking towards the lake. There were still people watching, checking on them. People had come and gone all day. He did not wish to tell her things while others could still hear him. His words were not for general knowledge.

She followed a step behind, allowing him the dominant role. Too much had been taken out of his control on this day, and he needed to be in control now. Even if it was she who was protecting the pair.

They crossed the lake, walking on stones that lead to a small island, just big enough for two to sit.

Once they were comfortable, they turned towards each other, heads bowed, eyes locked.

"What happened?" she whispered, repeating her question.

"I don't know," he answered, reaching out for her hand again. He had found the absence of her hand in his distracting. There was no other that he trusted on such a level. Not for the first time he wondered if the Gods were telling him something about their relationship, pushing him down a path that he would not consider on his own.

"What was my father inaccurate about?"

He stiffened. "We had not made contact. We were negotiating with the border guards that were going to let us speak with them. I know not what went wrong. They had been open to us. Interested in an alliance." He closed his eyes, struggling to find his center. Without thinking about it, he reached out for her other hand.

Gently holding his hands in her own, she took a deep breath, using her own calm to affect him. "Where was the body found?"

"Where was the body found?" she asked, her voice low and matching the tenor of the water.

"In the forest."

"Facing?"

"Towards the other community." He looked at her. It couldn't have been them.

"Doesn't sound like it."

A sigh. "I do not wish to offend you, but I fear that your father is going mad."

She sighed, closing her own eyes as she did so. She had the same thoughts recently. Her father's grip on reality had been slipping. He was starting to ask for people who had not come with them. He had started to yearn for the sea. She was certain that the time for him to sail had come. But, just the thought of the discussion made her uneasy. Too private to have the advisors there, she wasn't keen on taking on his emotions on her own. What she wouldn't have given for a visit from his old comrade, Elrond. Elrond could convince her father of anything. Anything.

"You are not alone in this assessment," she stated, quietly. "Short of making the alliances myself, I know not what to do."

His eyes glistened with thought, and he smiled a bit. "Were I to travel with you, would you scout?"

"Yes," she said, without hesitation.

He nodded. Another sigh and his eyes closed. Head bowed, he finally allowed himself to shake with the feelings that he kept inside.

Wordlessly, she scooted closer and let him curl into himself, as she wrapped her arms around him. He would not cry. She knew him too well to accept it. But, he needed to process. And apparently, that was going to happen here.

She wished it could have happened in his house. She hated that others could see him like this. This was a private matter. He was not a spectacle for anyone to watch.

Without breaking contact, she whispered, "I've got you," and adjusted herself so that her back blocked the situation as it was happening. As soon as he was safely hidden behind her, his shaking increased – a testament to how much control he had been exhibiting over himself.

"I've got you." The platitude snuck out before she could stop it. Rather than saying something and making it worse, she made sure that there were as many touch points as were natural, and stayed silent.

From the shoreline, her father watched.


End file.
